Happy Mother's Day
by LadyWallace
Summary: Sam just wanted to celebrate Mother's Day with Mary now that she's back. But of course things can never go right for the Winchesters. S12 Case!fic hurt!Sam Gen


**I think after last night's ep we all need this one...**

 **Since Mother's Day is this Sunday and the boys have their mom back this season, I thought this was appropriate. Plus, I have been wanting to write a story with some Sam and Mary moments, which I haven't really gotten to write lately. It didn't quite turn out how I originally planned the story, but I hope you all like it anyway. And Happy Mother's day to all the moms :)**

 **By the way, there is literally nothing useful to find about manticore research on the internet. The best thing I found was digging through one of my favorite childhood series- the Spiderwick Chronicles field guide LOL :P I would hope that the Men of Letters would have better resources.**

Happy Mother's Day

A Supernatural Fanfic

"Hey, you know what this Sunday is?"

Dean looked blankly up from his laptop where he had been searching for a case as Sam came into the library with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Um…the day you finally lose your virginity?"

Sam shot him a mega-bitchface before he sat down. "Dude, it's Mother's Day. Haven't you seen all the commercials?"

Dean instantly felt terrible because the truth was…he hadn't really thought about it. He'd been four years old the last time he had celebrated Mother's Day, after all, and after that, it was, sadly, always the date of her death that he remembered. And the melancholy and the dull ache that always came with it. He was actually really glad Sam had mentioned this.

"Yeah, I guess it is," he said, rubbing a hand over his eyes, which were aching from all the computer surfing.

"So, we should do something," Sam insisted. "Now that she's, you know, _back._ We should give her a nice Mother's Day."

Dean closed his laptop and took up his own cup of coffee, taking a sip. "Yeah we should, but what do we do?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, have some cake, make her dinner? Or take her out somewhere nice. I don't…really know what she'd like."

Dean bit his lip. Yeah, they were kind of unpracticed with celebrating any holidays with their parents—or holidays in general. Usually when it came to their birthdays or Christmas the two of them would give each other something needed, or something akin to a gag gift, and let the birthday celebrator have free rein of what they would do or where they would go. That was, if they weren't trying to save the world or facing death at the time.

"Yeah, we'll think of something nice," he said, determined now to go along with Sam's idea. It might have been a little rocky having their mom back, but they had gotten better over the months and Dean really wanted to do something nice for her. Make her feel welcome. And what better day to do that than Mother's Day?

Sam smiled. "Okay. I guess…maybe I should text her, maybe ask her what she'd like to do?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Maybe we can even come up with some gift for her."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm sure there's something she could use."

Before they could discuss it any more however, Dean's phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID. "Ha, speaking of…" He picked up the phone and answered the call, putting it on speaker. "Hey, Mom."

"Hey, Dean," Mom's voice came over the phone. "Are you boys in the middle of anything right now?"

"Nope," Dean said. "In fact, we haven't found a case at all."

"Why, you need help with something?" Sam asked.

"Well, I'm working a strange case right now in Missouri. The victims seemed to be poisoned, but none of the autopsies have shown a known origin for it. Some are clawed up too like a werewolf attack, but with more than the heart missing. I haven't hunted anything like this before and I could use a little help, and maybe your resources."

"Well, we'll head out and meet up with you. Where are you staying?"

After Mom had given them the address, Dean ended the call and turned to Sam.

"Well, I guess we can take Mom out for Mother's Day when the hunt is finished," he said.

Sam sighed, but nodded. "Yeah. Hopefully it won't be too hard."

Dean grinned. "We can only hope. Go get packed. I'll give Cas a call and see if he wants to join in."

He grabbed his stuff and before long the two were off to meet up with their mother.

* * *

 _Sam unfolded himself from the Impala_ after Dean parked in front of the motel their Mom said she was staying in. Cas was already there, having been only a few hours away himself while still looking for leads on Kelly Kline. The angel greeted them as they came up.

"Hello, Sam, Dean," he said.

"Hey, Cas, any leads on Lucifer's love child?" Dean asked.

Cas sighed. "No. Nothing. Kelly Kline is still in the wind. I figured I would be more helpful here. Besides, perhaps a break from the hunt will clear my head."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, hopefully. I'm sure we'll find her eventually, Cas."

"Yeah, but right now, we have some other fugly to hunt down," Dean cut in. "Let's go meet up with Mom."

They walked down to their mother's room and knocked on the door. It was opened a moment later by Mary, who smiled and beckoned them inside.

"Boys, Cas, come in," she said.

Sam followed Dean and Cas inside, giving his mother a hug almost as an afterthought. It still felt slightly awkward, but at the same time, he loved the fact that he _could_ hug and talk to his mom whenever he wanted to. It still left him sort of breathless when he thought about it.

"So what do you got?" Dean asked, glancing at the table where Mom had spread her research material.

"Well, I actually found out something interesting while I was waiting for you boys to get here," Mom told them as she pulled several papers from a pile on the table. Sam looked over her shoulder and saw what seemed to be an autopsy report. "I popped into the local morgue to see the newest victim and the ME said she found this stuck in the body." She flipped to a page with a picture on it. Sam frowned as he took the paper for closer inspection.

"What is that? A…quill?" he asked.

"Please tell me we're not hunting a giant poisonous porcupine," Dean said blandly.

"I don't think those exist," Cas offered.

"Whatever it is, it's obviously where the poison is coming from," Mom said. "I saw the quill itself. The bottom here looks like a poison sac. The ME still couldn't find any known match to it, but is pretty sure it's not synthetic. The cops are torn between the theory that they're some sort of tribal ritualistic killings, or just random animal attacks."

"Well, whatever it is, I haven't seen anything like this before," Dean said after inspecting the picture some more. "I guess that means we hit the books."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I'll check the Men of Letters database on my computer and see if I can find anything to match the MO."

Sam got his laptop out and sat down at the small table while Dean and their mom went to grab some books out of the Impala. Cas took several books and joined them with the research and the four of them spent the next couple hours looking for anything that might come up with the clues they had been given.

Sam's eyes started to swim after a while with the continuous computer scanning but he hadn't really found anything definitive yet.

"Has anyone found anything?" Mom asked them after a while, sitting on one of the beds and flipping through one of Bobby's old books.

"Not much," Dean grunted, tossing another book into a pile beside him.

"I found a couple possibilities," Sam offered. "Basilisk, questing beast…but they're all extinct as far as the Men of Letters' account say and not exactly indigenous, and I don't really think either fits the MO."

"I haven't found anything of note either," Cas said, closing the book he had been going through.

"We may just have to face the fact that we'll have to go into this one blind," Dean said, getting off the floor where he had been sitting with a grunt. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"You're right," Sam agreed, closing his laptop. "People are dying and we need to figure this out as soon as possible. Where have most of the attacks happened, Mom?"

"Around the outskirts of town," Mom said and went over to the table to pull a map from the pile of papers. She tapped one area with her finger as the others gathered around to look. Sam saw she had marked the spots of all the murders and they seemed to be clumped around a specific area. "Every attack we know of has happened in this vicinity. The police have scoured the place, but have so far come up with nothing."

Dean took the map and looked at it more closely. "There sewers around here?" he asked.

"I haven't been out there personally yet," Mary said. "But I was thinking the same thing, Dean. Since no one has seen any trace of this thing yet, I can only imagine it's very good at hiding."

"Most evil things are," Dean said truthfully. "Okay then, I guess we just pack every possible killing implement we have and a-hunting we go."

It took them only a matter of minutes to get ready to head out to the spot. Sam was out of the car first as Dean parked several blocks from the general area the bodies had been found, in an abandoned parking lot.

"Well, it's not the best part of town," Sam said as he looked around at the dilapidated apartment buildings and abandoned shopping strips.

"At least we'll be able to track this thing down without a bunch of civilians getting in the way," Dean shrugged, then opened the Impala's trunk and pulled out one duffle bag of weapons, handing it to Sam, and the other to their Mom. "Okay, Sam and I will check in this direction, Mom, you and Cas can head the other way. Call us if you find anything."

Sam offered a nod of luck to their Mom and Cas before they headed off down the street. Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder.

"Let's go."

They went cautiously, not sure of what they would find or where. Sam kicked an empty soda bottle and trudged through other trash. Between the garbage and the other things people had thrown out, there was a plethora of places a monster could be hiding back here. No wonder it had chosen this as its hunting ground.

Sam's attentive hearing suddenly caught a rustling slightly behind him from a dumpster he had just passed. He motioned to Dean to stop.

"What is it?" Dean hissed.

"Heard something in the dumpster."

Dean approached cautiously at his shoulder, holding his gun at the ready in one hand and an angel blade in the other. Sam was simply carrying his shotgun, but he had the demon knife ready in the back of his belt. He really hated it when they were forced to fight something they weren't sure how to kill. Supernatural creatures could so rarely be taken down by just simple bullets.

Sam slowly reached out for a cardboard box on the top of the dumpster and glanced at Dean. His brother nodded, holding his weapons ready and Sam yanked the box aside, pulling his shotgun up.

"Mrrrooww!"

Sam yelled and jumped backwards, startled by the cat that leapt out almost at his face and landed on the ground, hissing at the hunters before it scampered away in indignation.

Dean was laughing.

"See? Cats are scary," he said with a grin.

Sam turned to give him a bitchface. "Shut up, Dean."

Dean continued to chuckle, shaking his head. "You should have seen your face. I wish I had gotten a picture of that. Big bad hunter, scared of a cat."

"Yeah, you're one to talk," Sam replied, kicking the box aside.

"Hey, I had ghost sickness as an excuse."

"Whatever, let's just keep looking," Sam said, and was about to continue on their way when Dean's face changed from a stupid grin to a seriously, alert look in an instant.

"Sam, look out!"

Sam spun around, bringing up his shotgun at the figure that had been attempting to leap at his unprotected back. He discharged the shot, but wasn't able to get out of the way before the creature collided with him, bringing him to the ground. Sam flailed, trying to get to his knife as he took in the creature as well as he could while he was trying not to get bitten by it.

It was something he had never seen before, and would have looked like a mountain lion if it didn't have a spiked tail that it was currently swinging around to strike Sam with. He shouted and turned to the side just in time to avoid getting spiked in the neck and Dean was suddenly there kicking the thing off of Sam and shooting at it. But whatever it was, it was damn fast, and scurried out of the way of the bullets.

Sam rolled to his feet as Mom and Cas ran into the alley, obviously drawn by the sound of gunfire.

"What is it?" Mom shouted and Sam could only point as the thing suddenly leapt at Dean and took the elder Winchester down with a snarl.

Sam brought the shotgun up again and leveled it at the creature just as its head whipped up to look at him. Sam shot it and thought he'd made a hit, but was too late to jump out of the way as it surged toward him again flailing its spiked tail. It whipped into his side and he fell with a yelp, sprawling on the ground and losing his weapon. The creature quickly took that moment to retreat down the nearest culvert, skipping right past Cas and Mom.

"Sam!" Dean was at his side instantly and Sam rolled onto his back with a grunt, feeling a sharp pain in his side. Mom and Cas were hovering over him too.

"Did you get it?" Sam asked, looking up at them.

"No, it's gone, but I think you wounded it," Cas told him, concern furrowing his brow as he looked down at Sam.

"Yeah, but the important thing is are you all right?" Dean demanded, hands already pulling at Sam's jacket. "Did it hit you?"

His question answered itself as he shifted Sam's jacket aside to reveal two long quills sticking out of his side. Mom inhaled sharply as she saw them, crouching down on Sam's other side. Sam swallowed hard himself. He had a feeling this was not good.

"Dammit," Dean muttered.

"Sam, how do you feel?" Mom asked, touching his shoulder and forcing him to look her in the eye.

"I…" Sam started to feel woozy all of a sudden, the wounds feeling like they were getting hotter by the minute. He gritted his teeth, trying to shift up into a sitting position, but his head was spinning. "I think…"

"He's been poisoned," Mom breathed, looking between the three of them.

"What do we do for him?" Dean demanded. "What the hell was that thing? Cas?"

"I…think it was a manticore," the angel said with a frown. "I thought they were extinct, but…"

"Yeah, not so much," Dean grunted as he took hold of the spines and swiftly pulled them out of Sam's flesh.

Sam cried out, the skin in that area extra sensitive from the poison, and felt his mom and Dean steady him.

"Okay, we need to get him somewhere safe, that thing might come back," Mom said swiftly. "As soon as we have Sam taken care of we can come back and finish it."

"Agreed. Okay, kiddo, up you come," Dean murmured as he took Sam under the shoulder and between him and Mom, they lifted him to his feet while Cas gathered Sam's dropped shotgun. Sam leaned heavily on them, his legs feeling like jelly.

"Castiel, how quickly does this poison work?" Mom asked urgently as they started back to the Impala.

"It's not fast acting, but it is fatal if not treated," Cas said grimly, casting an apologetic and worried look at Sam. "The manticore usually uses it to disable its prey so it can track it and eat it more easily."

"So how do we treat it?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Cas said, pain and helplessness obvious in his voice. "I'm sorry."

"Well, we need to hit the books then," Dean grunted. "Again. Maybe we'll be able to find something now that we know what we're looking for."

They made it to the car as Sam's vision was blurring more and more frequently, and Cas hurriedly opened the back door as Mom and Dean carefully lowered Sam's large frame inside. Mom slid in next to him, taking a handkerchief out of her pocket and pressing it to his wound to at least stop the bleeding. Sam couldn't help the cry of protest at her touch and grabbed her wrist, only just refraining from wrenching it away. The poison was making his whole body ache like he had a high fever. Actually, with the burning feeling in his veins, he just might.

"Shh, sorry, Sam, I'm sorry," Mom said gently, reaching up with her other hand to stroke his hair from his face. He saw worry cross her features as she touched his skin. "Dean, he already has a fever."

"I'll get us to the motel as quick as I can," Dean assured her, putting the Impala in gear and tearing off toward the road. "Cas, can you do anything for him?"

Cas reached over the back of the seat and touched Sam's forehead, frowning in concentration. "I—I can't seem to heal him. The manticore is an ancient mythological creature, some of them make it…tricky for even angels to heal their victims. And my power is not what it once was."

"s'okay, Cas," Sam assured the angel, hating to see the helpless look on his face. "I'll make it."

"You better," Dean shot over his shoulder. But Sam could see the worry in his brother's stiff features and to be honest, he was pretty worried too. They had no idea what they were dealing with and it wasn't likely there was a recipe for manticore antidote just running around the internet. Of course, the Men of Letters archive had surprised them before.

They made it back to the hotel in record time and Dean screeched to a stop right in front of their room, jumping out of the car almost before he had turned it off. He and Cas reached in for Sam and Sam tried to help them as they maneuvered him up and out, but his head was pounding and his body felt on fire. He cried out involuntarily as they pulled him to his feet.

"Hold on, Sammy, sorry," Dean said, obviously distressed. Sam wanted to assure his brother he was going to be okay, but…truthfully, he didn't even really believe that himself. He couldn't believe how bad he already felt, and Cas had hinted that it was probably going to just get worse.

Mom hurried into the room ahead of them and was already pulling the covers down on one of the beds. Sam practically collapsed onto it and hardly noticed when Dean started to pull his jacket and shirts off with Cas' help.

"Just cut the t-shirt," Dean said and Sam heard a rip before the cold air of the room hit his bare skin and he gasped at the sudden shock, shuddering as his chest spasmed. Dean rested a hand on the side of his neck briefly as he pulled the rest of Sam's shirt off.

"Do you think we can draw some of the poison out?" Mom asked; Sam saw she was already rummaging through the first aid kit, laying out stuff they might need.

Sam looked up blearily as Cas settled a hand on his shoulder, a frown of concentration on his face, before he shook his head. "It's already moved through his system. If I recall correctly it causes a sort of paralysis before it starts to shut the body down, starting with the organs."

Sam closed his eyes, wishing he didn't have to hear that. This poison didn't sound like a lot of fun. Cas squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.

"But if you can't heal it, then there must be a spell or something, an anti-venom?" Dean asked and Sam could hear the desperation in his voice. He hated hearing Dean like that, knew it usually led to his brother doing something stupid.

"Dean, I don't know," Cas said in a forced calm voice.

"Well there has to be something!"

"Dean," Sam forced out, cracking his eyes open, and even that was a huge effort. He saw his brother lean over him and tried to focus on his worried gaze. "Jus' stop. Not Cas' fault. Stop arguing and find s'mthing."

Dean's face relaxed just a fraction and he settled a hand on the center of Sam's chest briefly. "Okay, kiddo. Just try to rest, alright?"

"Can' do much else," Sam replied, trying for a smile, but a wave of hot pain flared through him and he gritted his teeth, groaning in the back of his throat. A softer, smaller hand than usual slipped into his and he turned his head to the side to see Mom smiling at him reassuringly.

"Dean, you and Cas look in the books and see what you can find," she said. "I'll look after Sam and patch him up."

Dean hesitated only a second before he nodded. "Okay. Come on, Cas, let's see if we have better luck than we did earlier."

Sam felt Mom start to clean out his wounds and tape some gauze over them, then pull a sheet over him. He was grateful for that, he'd been chilled before, of course he knew that was just the fever.

"It's okay, Sammy," she whispered, stroking some sweat soaked hair off of his forehead. "Just try and rest."

Sam didn't need much coaxing, his eyes were already closed and he simply allowed himself to slip off into the oblivion that was waiting for him.

* * *

 _Dean slammed another book closed_ before turning back to the laptop. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and looked over to Sam who was sleeping restlessly on the bed, flushed and burning with a 104.2 degree fever—last time they checked anyway. It might have gotten worse by now. Mom was sitting beside him, cooling him off with wet cloths, but it didn't seem to be doing much. Even the Tylenol they had managed to force into Sam earlier didn't seem to be doing anything for the fever or the pain. But it had been wishful thinking at best anyway. Dean knew how supernatural poisons worked. They only had one cure. Now if only they could find the damn thing.

The Men of Letters had little on manticores as it was, and nothing that seemed to be remotely listed as an anti-venom. He and Cas had been searching for hours and Mom and pitched in too, looking through several books while she tended to Sam. It was after nine PM now and Dean was about to slam his head against the table.

"Maybe we should go back to the bunker. There might be something there that's not on Sam's online database."

"I don't know if it's a good idea to move him," Mom said worriedly.

Dean stood up to stretch the crick from his back, threading his hands behind his neck. "Well, I've gotta do something."

"First of all, you need to eat," Mom said firmly, standing up from Sam's bedside. "And sleep."

"I'm not sleeping until we find a cure," Dean told her firmly.

"Dean, she's right," Cas chimed in, furrowing his brow. "You're exhausted, and you're not going to do Sam any good like this."

"Just sleep a few hours, that's an order," Mom said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Cas and I can keep an eye on Sam while we research."

Dean wanted to protest but two pairs of eyes glared at him and he was forced to give in. "Fine. I'll get a few hours, but that's it. And wake me if anything happens."

"Of course we will," Mom said.

Dean grabbed a protein bar and ate it quickly to appease his mom. He glanced over at Sam as he sat down on the second bed to kick his shoes off, watching his brother twitch and shiver in his sleep. It went against everything Dean stood for to sleep right now but…he was exhausted and he had backup. Sam had backup. And Cas was right, he wouldn't do Sam any good if he couldn't think straight to even put together an antidote.

He grunted as he lay down fully dressed and stretched out on his back. He closed his eyes and within seconds was asleep.

* * *

 _Dean was jolted awake_ by a cry he knew all too well.

He was already out of bed practically before his eyes were open and leaning over the second bed where Cas and Mom were already standing over Sam who was thrashing and crying out.

"Sammy!" Dean cried and reached out to help them hold him down before Sam hurt himself. As soon as Dean grabbed Sam's flailing arm and the leg closest to him though, he felt just how hot his brother was. Sam was burning with fever, his skin dry to the touch which meant his fever was nowhere near breaking.

"Dammit," he muttered. "When did this happen?"

"This just started," Mom told him, a worried look in her eyes. "But his fever has been getting worse for the past hour. I can't get it down."

Sam suddenly let out a moan and went limp on the bed, his chest heaving with labored breaths as if he had simply exhausted himself. Dean let him go to rummage through the first aid kit still sitting on the bedside table. He found the thermometer and slipped his hand under the back of Sam's head. "This'll only take a minute, kiddo, promise." He pried Sam's mouth open slightly, enough to stick the thermometer under his tongue. Sam struggled—leave it to him to still be stubborn even when he had a raging fever—but Dean finally got the thermometer in place and waited for it to register.

It was Mom's turn to curse as it beeped and showed Sam's current temperature.

"105.2," she read, looking shocked. "We need to get him cooled down."

Dean didn't argue. He went to the AC unit and cranked it down as low as possible as Mom tore the blankets off of Sam. He shivered and whimpered but Dean knew this was necessary. Cas ran to get ice and they packed it into several towels, tucking the makeshift ice packs around Sam's body. He really didn't like that and cried out, but somehow they managed to keep them there until he cooled of a bit.

"It's gone down to 104," Mom said, taking Sam's temperature again after a few minutes.

"Well, it's as good as we're gonna get probably," Dean muttered grimly, running a hand through his hair as the pit of worry in his stomach just grew.

"Dean," Cas said then and the elder Winchester turned to the angel tiredly.

"What, Cas?"

"Before Sam's episode, I think I might have found something useful," Cas told him, motioning toward an open book on the table.

Dean hurried over to it and picked it up, scanning the text. "What the hell? I can't even read this!"

Cas took the book from him. "It's ancient Persian and it's very obscure, but the gist is that it's an old warrior's cure for manticore poison."

"Great, then let's get to work," Dean said instantly. "What's in it?"

Cas looked slightly hesitant but answered before Dean could urge him on. "Most of the ingredients are things you have, but the most important part is the poison and quill of a manticore, ideally the one involved in the attack."

"More poison?" Mom asked.

"It is an anti-venom. As you say it's like fighting fire with fire," Cas shrugged.

"Damn," Dean ran a hand over his face again. "And we left the quills that were stuck in Sam in the alley."

"They have to be taken from the manticore directly," Cas told him. "The ones stuck in Sam would have ejected all their poison into him. We'll need fresh quills for the anti-venom."

Dean swallowed hard. "So I guess we hunt the son of a bitch then."

Cas nodded. "That is the only option we have."

Dean looked over at his brother, burning with fever and yet shivering from the forced coolness. "Cas, how long does he have?" he asked quietly, and Mom's head came up, also searching the angel's face for the answer.

Cas hesitated. "From the research I've done, I'd say at least another twenty-four hours—most cases put death at around the thirty-six hour mark." He shook his head. "But organ failure starts at around the twenty-four hour mark, so in reality, we probably have more like twelve."

Dean shut his eyes and rubbed a tired hand over his face. "Okay then. Let's go. Mom," he turned to their mother as she came around the bed toward him. "Look after him."

She gave him a soft smile and touched his cheek. "I promise."

"D'n."

Dean looked up sharply to see Sam's eyes opened to slits, staring at him. He hurried over to the bed and sat on the side of it, cupping the side of Sam's face with one hand. "Sammy? Hey, how you feel?"

Sam pulled a wry look. "Like crap, whacha think?" He winced and squeezed his eyes shut again before he reached up with a clumsy hand and Dean gripped it tightly with his.

"We're gonna get you something to fix this, okay?" Dean assured him.

"Heard you," Sam said tiredly. "Jus…don' do anything…stupid."

Dean smiled despite himself and brushed Sam's hair back from his face before clasping the back of his burning neck. "I promise, little brother. Now rest. Cas and I will be back soon." He squeezed Sam's hand one more time and then gently placed it back down by his side as he stood up and turned toward Cas who stood with the duffle bag already packed.

"We'll be back," he told Mom.

"Be careful, boys," Mom replied, crossing her arms over her chest as Dean grabbed his keys and followed Cas out to the Impala.

Twelve hours. Dean was determined to gank that SOB before then. Because if he didn't, Sammy may not survive this.

"We'll find it, Dean," Cas told him.

"You know it," Dean replied firmly and started the engine, tearing off into the night, already feeling every minute counting down.

* * *

 _Mary slipped quickly back into the room_ after running to get more ice. She hadn't wanted to leave Sam even for a second, but knew keeping him cool was also important. She still breathed a sigh of relief as she saw him exactly where she left him. Not that he'd be able to go anywhere. She pressed her lips together as she reached for the sopping towels that had previously contained ice but had been melted by Sam's body heat. She quickly rung them out in the sink before replacing them with fresh ice packs, then sat down in the chair beside the bed and took up another cloth to bathe Sam's brow with.

Sam's eyes flicked rapidly under his lids. His breathing was shallow and ragged. His unconscious moans of pain were getting worse and worse and when he did wake at all, he was delirious and hardly knew where he was. Mary's heart ached seeing him like this, even more so because the only other time she had cared for a sick Sammy, he had been just a tiny baby, four months old, and with a fever that had kept her and John up all night in shifts. Back then she had simply carried Sam or rocked him to soothe him as much as possible, but now…she smiled wryly as she took in her big, well-built son. Well, rocking wasn't really an option, was it?

She looked at the clock, and saw it was almost four thirty in the morning. Dean and Castiel had been gone almost two hours, and she'd heard nothing from them. She tried not to worry, knowing that they were both experienced hunters and now that they knew what they were fighting against things should go a bit smoother, but still. She was a mom; she had the right to worry over her boys.

She got up to refresh the cloth she was cooling Sam with but as she was coming back from the bathroom, she heard him give a whimpering cry.

"D'n? D'n, w'areyou?"

Mary hurried back to the bed as Sam began to thrash weakly, and tried to grab the hand he was reaching out with. "Shh," she told him, pressing the cool cloth to his forehead with her other hand.

"Hur's, D'n," Sam slurred, face crumpled in pain and a sound something like a sob escaping his throat as he tried to roll onto his side as if trying to escape the pain.

Mary's heart ripped in two. Seeing Sam like this—and knowing this probably wasn't even the _worst_ thing that had happened to either of her boys since she'd been gone—was almost too much on top of everything else. And then when she fully registered who he was calling out for, her heart broke all over again.

Even as a child Dean had watched over Sammy, Mary had seen that right off, how much Dean loved and cared for his little brother. And the fact that he still did was a testament to their relationship. But the fact that Dean was the first person Sam would call out to when he was hurt—not a parent, but a brother, the only one who had ever been there for him through _everything…_ it was a sobering thought to Mary, and for the first time, she thought she truly began to realize just what the boys' lives might have been like, even when John was still alive. She closed her eyes and had to swallow down the lump in her throat before she reached out and stroked Sam's face, smoothing the hair from his forehead.

"Shh, Sammy, it's Mom. Everything's okay, just rest."

His eyes slit open again and they finally found her after a few seconds of searching. "Mom?" he whispered, incredulous.

She smiled and reached for his hand again, pressing it in her own. "Yes, Sammy, I'm here."

"So hot," Sam whispered, sounding so tired and defeated.

"I know, sweetie," Mary told him kindly. She trailed the cloth down his face to his neck and chest, the dampness evaporating almost instantly on his hot skin. The fever still wasn't showing any signs of breaking. Worry gnawed at her stomach, but she knew Sam wasn't going to get any better until the antidote was given to him.

"You should try to drink something," she told him, worried about dehydration. With a fever as bad as this, Sam really should be on an IV drip, but they didn't have those resources and the ER would be useless with the kind of poison Sam was suffering from.

He _hmmed_ slightly and Mary took that as acquiescence. She reached for a bottle of water on the side table and slipped an arm under Sam's head, leaning in to prop him against her shoulder. She put the glass to his lips and he drank a few sips. She coaxed a little more into him before the act of simply drinking seemed to exhaust him and he slumped back against the pillow.

"Hurts," he murmured, eyes fluttering shut again as his body tensed in another wave of agony.

"Where?" she asked, setting the glass aside.

"Ev'rywhere," he replied. "Head, stom'ch." His back arched slightly and a keen sounded from the back of his throat. Mary squeezed his hand tighter and she felt his long fingers wrap around hers.

"I wish I could take it away," she told him softly, still stroking his face gently. "This and everything else you boys have been through. I never…I never wanted this for you." She took a shuddering breath and shook her head. Sam had slipped off into a delirious sleep again, thankfully, and she slipped her hand from his and wrung out the cloth again to cool it off.

She dabbed his forehead and then, remembering a now long ago time, she started singing "Hey Jude" softly as she stroked Sam's hair out of his face. Miraculously, it seemed to calm him just slightly, and some of his shuddering stopped as she continued to sing and cool his brow, all the time watching the clock and waiting for word from Dean and Castiel. The hours were counting down and she was afraid that Sam was on his way to getting worse very soon.

But she wasn't going to stop caring for him either. No matter what happened, nothing could take her from her boys this time. She had a lot of years to make up for and she figured that starting here would be good enough.

* * *

 _Dean groaned as he riffled through_ yet another dumpster, finding nothing but disgusting sludge. He was getting more and more anxious as their search for the manticore went on and they had still turned up nothing. All he could think about was Sam lying back in the motel room burning with fever and in pain as he and Cas squandered the precious few hours they had left trying to track down a supposedly intelligent and dangerous mythological creature.

"This is ridiculous," Dean ground out as Cas too turned up a dead end as he riffled through several pallets that had been formed into some sort of shelter. There didn't seem to be any occupants there right now though.

"Well before it ran into the sewer system," Cas pointed out. "Perhaps we should look there."

Dean closed his eyes briefly, really hoping they didn't have to resort to that. "I know. I was kinda hoping it would be out hunting tonight."

"Well, the victims were found at various points within a two mile radius," Cas said. "We have a wide area to cover."

"And we've already looked through most of it." Dean glanced down at his watch, seeing it was almost five a.m.—they'd been gone for almost three hours now and still hadn't found this damn thing. They crossed back to the end of the alley and started off down the street again. "We've got to get this stuff and get back to Sammy."

"I know," Cas said needlessly.

That was when a shout sounded out a few blocks down. Dean and Cas instantly looked at each other and hurried off in that direction, weapons drawn and cocked.

They were nearly bowled over by a man who looked to be homeless, running in their direction around a corner. Dean caught him by the shoulders.

"Woah, where's the fire?" he demanded.

"Monster!" the man sputtered and yanked himself from Dean's grip. "Run!"

"Dean!" Cas shouted, and Dean turned just in time to leap out of the way of the manticore's flailing barbed tail. His breath caught in his throat, as he realized he could have just ended up like Sam.

Cas ducked in and swung his angel blade at the manticore but that thing was fast and it dodged, spinning around to swing its tail at the angel.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, and leveled his pistol, taking a shot at the thing. The manticore did not like that at all and leapt at him, slashing with its claws this time and digging them into Dean's left thigh. He cried out at the sudden pain and staggered back against the wall as Cas came in again, and stabbed down with his blade. The manticore whipped around so quickly it was like a snake, and bit the angel's wrist before barreling into him and flinging him into the side of a nearby dumpster. Cas cried out, his blade lost in the process, an Dean forced himself upright, getting his weapons ready just as the manticore leapt at him again, right at his chest, bringing him down hard on his back. Dean's head smacked the concrete under him and he saw stars for a second, before he felt the sharp slice of claws down his chest. The manticore opened its fanged mouth, saliva dripping from its teeth as it loomed over the hunter, raising its tail to spike him.

"Hey!" Cas shouted and a silver blade flew through the air, burying itself in the manticore's shoulder. It screamed and was about to take its rage out on Dean but the hunter had already taken the opportunity to get his gun up and shot once through the manticore's open mouth.

That shut it up. Its eyes glazed over and it collapsed on top of Dean as the hunter just lay there panting.

"Dean!" Cas called urgently as he hurried over, clutching his bitten wrist to his chest as he reached down with his other hand and yanked the corpse off of the hunter. "Are you all right?"

Dean groaned and forced himself into a sitting position. Cas offered him a hand and pulled him upright. Dean fingered the rips in his shirt, wincing. "Clawed up, but it didn't stick me. You?"

"I'll be all right," Cas assured him, looking down at the dead manticore again. "Right now we need to worry about getting this back to Sam. It will take a while to mix the ingredients."

"I'll get the car," Dean said and limped off into the night.

Sure, they had found the manticore, but there was still the chance that something with the antidote would go wrong.

Dean didn't think Sam had enough time for error.

* * *

 _Mary glanced at the clock again_. Almost six. She bit her lip anxiously and got up from her chair, stretching her back and going to refill her coffee cup. She was already jumpy with caffeine but she was afraid of nodding off.

Not that she would be able to stay asleep for any length of time. Sam was getting continuously restless, and his fever had risen again. She'd had to get more ice to pack his body with but by now it wasn't doing much good. He hadn't showed any signs of clarity for the past hour or so, hadn't really woken. She'd tried to get him to drink something again, but he'd only choked and wouldn't swallow.

She was also pretty sure that the poison had started to attack Sam's organs. His breathing had become even more labored, and when she had checked his wounds to see how they looked, she had noticed his abdomen was somewhat rigid which was never a good sign. She felt so helpless, unable to do anything while her youngest son lay there dying. She could only try and keep him cool as best as she could, but there was so little good that did at this point.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she hurriedly snatched it out and sagged in relief as she saw a text from Dean.

 _Got the SOB. On our way back._

Sam twitched and groaned and Mary stroked his cheek again, shushing him. "Hush, Sammy. Your brother is on his way back now. He's gonna make it better." She hoped. If the antidote didn't work…

Mary shook her head, not giving that thought the time of day. It _would_ work because they were survivors. Sam would get better because that was what Winchesters did. They didn't just lie down and give up.

It wasn't long before the door to the room was opened and Dean and Castiel staggered in, carting an unwieldy lump wrapped in a tarp with them. Mary stood up to offer help, but they dropped it unceremoniously on the ground. She gasped as she saw the state they were in, covered in blood and not all of it the manticore's.

"You're injured! Neither of you got poisoned, did you?" she demanded.

"We're fine, Mom, we can get patched up later," Dean assured her. Cas was already setting a bag on the table, pulling out a bowl and several bottles of various things as Dean made a beeline for his brother. Mary moved out of the way briefly and her heart ached as she saw Dean's jaw tighten, pain and worry washing over his features as he saw his little brother looking worse than before.

"How is he?" he asked quietly.

"He's not good," Mary told him softly, touching his arm. "But I think you got back just in time."

"Dean, I need your help."

Dean turned back toward Cas and went to help him mix the potion as Mary resumed her seat at Sam's side. She took up the cloth again and washed his face and chest once more, feeling the heat wash off of him in waves even from where she was sitting. She hadn't bothered checking his temperature again. At this point, she would rather not know how high it was, especially if she couldn't do anything about it anyway.

"We need a quill now," Castiel said. "Careful."

Dean unwrapped the corpse and carefully extracted a poison quill from the manticore. He carried it gingerly back to the table. "Now what?"

"There's a spell," Cas told him and took the quill, placing it tip first into the mixture he'd made. He chanted a few words in something that must have been ancient Persian and Mary could see the poison being drawn up into the quill.

"It's done," Cas said, and glanced over at Sam as he picked up the bowl. "This will act as an injection."

Dean swallowed hard. "And then what?"

Cas shook his head helplessly. "We wait for the poison to burn itself out."

"I don't like this," Dean muttered.

"It's all we have, Dean," Mary told him gently. "Sam will die without it. We may as well give him a fighting chance."

Dean nodded reluctantly and moved over to the bed.

"I'll do it, but you'll need to hold him still," Cas said. "It needs to go directly into a vein."

Dean swallowed hard, and finally sat down on the side of the bed, and positioned himself so he could lean against Sam's legs and grip his arms to keep him from flailing.

"Mary, can you hold his head?" Cas asked.

Mary nodded jerkily and sat on the bed as well, drawing up a knee to prop Sam's head on. He moaned slightly and she stroked his forehead before placing her palm firmly against it, and tilting his head to one side to expose his neck to Castiel.

"Do it," Dean told Cas.

The angel shared a look with both of them before he drew the quill from the bowl and gripped Sam's jaw in case he moved before he inserted the quill right into his jugular.

Sam's whole body jerked and Mary and Dean both had to hold him down as the anti-venom flowed into his system. It took only seconds and they quickly took the pressure off of him, as all three of them stood by the bed, staring at Sam's shuddering body.

Sam looked like he was having a seizure for a few seconds before he finally went limp, chest barely moving with breath. Mary's own breath caught in her throat but Dean beat her to it, holding a hand in front of Sam's mouth and nose. The look of slight relief on his face told her that Sam was at least still breathing, even if it was very faint.

"Cas," Dean said. "What's going on?"

The angel shook his head helplessly. "I don't know, Dean. The book said little about how the treatment worked. Just that it was a long process."

Dean just stared down at his brother as if hoping that he might wake up any minute but they all knew that probably wasn't going to happen. Mary put a hand on his elbow.

"Dean, why don't you and Cas get cleaned up? You're still bleeding."

Dean seemed to notice his own injuries for the first time and nodded in agreement as he realized he was also still covered in manticore blood. "Alright.'

"Dean, I can heal you," Cas said, though Dean glanced down at his wrist and Mary could see fresh blood still spotting the handkerchief tied around it.

"Cas your grace has been so low. Save it for Sam. I can deal with a few claw marks."

Cas looked like he wanted to protest, but he finally conceded. "Alright, but at least disinfect them. They could get infected."

"Thanks, mom," Dean snarked and then quickly glanced over at Mary. She smiled for the first time in hours and shook her head.

"Let me know if you need help bandaging," she told him.

"Mom, you should rest," Dean told her as he went to riffle through his duffle bag for clean clothes.

Mary shook her head. "Not until my boys are all right."

Dean's eyes softened and he ducked his head as he grabbed the first aid kit and headed to the bathroom to clean up.

Mary turned to Castiel who was standing on the other side of the bed, watching Sam intently. "Can you tell if it's working?" she asked.

Cas reached out and closed his eyes, touching Sam's forehead. "The anti-venom is in his bloodstream. But I don't know when it will start working."

They got their answer about fifteen minutes later.

Mary and Cas were clearing up the table and she had just turned to make a fresh pot of coffee when Sam suddenly cried out, causing them both to start and rush over to the bed. Mary reached out and grabbed one of Sam's flailing arms, shocked to see his whole body taut with agony, his face a grimace of pain as another cry was ripped from his throat.

"What's wrong with him?" Mary asked Castiel as the angel helped her hold Sam down so he wouldn't flail off the bed.

"I think this may just be part of the process," Cas replied grimly.

Dean barged out of the bathroom then, his shirt damp from hastily drying off after his shower as he hurried over to join them at Sam's side.

"Sammy? What happened?" he demanded, reaching down to take Sam's face between his hands, prying one eyelid up.

"This just started," Mary said wearily. "I don't think it's going to end soon either. The antidote has to combat the poison."

Dean cursed and tried his best to calm Sam's flailing, but nothing he did or said did any good. Mary hoped they wouldn't have to end up tying him to the bed, but if he didn't stop thrashing, they may have to lest Sam risk hurting himself.

Eventually, he seemed to settle down a bit, but unfortunately that only lasted about half an hour before the waves of pain he seemed to be experiencing came back and seemed almost worse this time.

It continued like that for the next few hours. The three of them did their best to try and keep Sam as comfortable as possible, his fever still burning too hot for comfort, but there was little they could do. Like Castiel had said, it was part of the process.

Finally, Dean stood up. "This is worse than the poison." Then he walked out of the room, face pale and drawn.

Mary looked up at Castiel, about to go after him, but Cas put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "He'll be back in a minute. Just give him some time alone."

Mary bit her lip, again hating that she didn't know her boys well enough to even help them through rough times.

Dean did come back eventually, and they started to take shifts so that they could get rest in turns. Mary slept for about an hour, but it was hard to really rest when she could still hear Sammy suffering in the background and Dean's constant whispered reassurances to his little brother while Cas constantly went for fresh ice to wrap in the towels in some vain attempt to keep Sam's temperature down. It brought a lump to her throat and made her eyes well up. Dean was such a good brother; in fact he was a better _mother_ than she was to Sam. That thought only broke her heart more as she realized that was probably because Dean'd had to be.

Another long night dragged by with more shift changes. Sam's episodes seemed to at least be getting further apart, even though Mary suspected that was more because he was just exhausted. They all were. Even Castiel looked dead on his feet, though that may have partly been because he had insisted on healing Dean after all when he realized he couldn't do anything for Sam no matter how much he wanted to. There was something about the potion and the poison that didn't allow him to heal Sam normally.

Finally, Mary made both him and Dean get some rest, though they protested. Their eyes were practically closed already, and she wasn't much better off, but she couldn't sleep even if she tried. So as they caught some sleep, she sat with Sam again, still bathing his brow, humming to him, until she could almost feel a marked change in him. His breathing got easier, his moans of pain got less frequent, and instead of being caught in a restless unconsciousness, he seemed to have finally fallen into an actual sleep.

Pretty soon sweat broke out over his body telling her that the fever had finally broken, and Mary felt so much relief she rested her head against the bed and said a prayer of thanks. She removed the sopping ice filled towels from around him, then worked on maneuvering Sam to the drier side of the bed before she pulled a blanket over him and resumed her seat at his side, taking his large, calloused hand in hers and stroking his face with her other hand.

"It's gonna be okay, Sammy," she said, smiling. "You'll be okay now."

She hadn't realized it, but she must have dozed off with her head resting on the side of the bed, because she started awake as she felt shifting near her head and heard a slight groan. Mary sat up straight, blinking the sleep from her eyes and saw Sam stirring, his eyes fluttering open. She squeezed his hand, which was still clasped in her own, and his gaze finally landed on hers.

"Hey," she said softly, brushing some hair from his face. "How are you feeling?"

Sam seemed to think about it. Mary quickly reached for a bottle of water on the side table and brought it to his lips, knowing he was badly dehydrated. Sam eagerly sipped the water, licking his lips when he had finished.

"Um, kinda crappy," he admitted finally in a hoarse voice but managed a slight smile. "What happened?"

"Dean and Castiel found an antidote," she told him. "You were out for a while."

"How long?" Sam asked groggily, scrunching his brow.

Mary looked over at the clock and saw it was six thirty in the morning. "Almost two days now. It's Sunday."

Sam's frown deepened as if he were trying to remember something, and Mary stood up to wake Dean and Cas and let them know Sam was awake.

"Hey, Mom," Sam said, calling her back instead. She turned and saw his slightly sheepish look.

"What is it, Sammy?" she asked him.

"Happy Mother's Day," he told her with a smile, eyes already starting to droop shut again.

Mary felt her heart warm, and she reached out to touch his face. "Thank you, Sam."

* * *

 _Later that afternoon,_ they pulled into the bunker's garage. Sam was extremely glad to be home. He was still exhausted from the manticore poison and the fever, unable to stay awake for long periods of time. He'd slept most of the way back to the bunker, and had just woke up as Dean pulled into the garage and the comforting rumble of the Impala's engine stopped. Sam groaned groggily and blinked up at Dean and Mom in the front seat from where he lay in the back.

"Okay, time to get you into a real bed," Dean told him as he got out of the car and both him and Mom opened up the back and helped Sam out.

"I can do it," he tried to protest but his legs had other ideas, nearly collapsing under him as he tried to level himself up with his weak arms supporting himself against the door.

"Woah, I don't think so, kiddo," Dean told him and caught him, swiftly wrapping his arm around Sam's back and maneuvering him with practiced expertise. "Let's just work on getting you horizontal."

Sam sighed and Mom gave him a small smile as she ducked around his other side and helped Dean support him. "You'll get your strength back soon, don't worry."

Sam huffed and allowed them to practically drag him into the bunker and straight for the dormitory ward. "Where's Cas?" he asked, looking around for the angel.

"He'll be here soon," Dean told him, shrugging in a way that Sam thought he wasn't telling everything. "He, uh, said he'd go on a supply run for us."

"I'll go grab the things from the car," Mom said and left Sam to his brother's care as Dean maneuvered him toward his room and into the bed.

"Okay, there we go," Dean said and Sam sighed and slumped gratefully back against his pillows. He rolled onto his side and buried his face in one of them, groaning in relief. His whole body still ached, but not nearly as much as it had when the fever had been raging. He was mostly just tired.

He felt Dean pull a blanket over him before he sat on the side of the bed, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam could feel the relief in his brother's touch and graced him with a small smile.

"I'm okay, Dean," he assured him.

Dean licked his lips, not replying, he just sat there a moment before he seemed to shake off the dark thoughts. "So, Cas went to pick up a few things for us. Thought I'd make mom something." He smiled. "I'll wake you up when I get the grub ready."

Sam sighed, rolling onto his back. "I wish we could have had a nicer Mother's Day for her. I mean, it's been a long time."

Dean smiled. "Yeah, but, really, this is kinda how it always is with us, isn't it? We'll make it work though, and you need to eat something."

"Right now I want to sleep," Sam told him firmly.

"Alright, bitch, I know you need your beauty sleep," Dean said and stood, adjusting the blankets higher over Sam's shoulders as he closed his eyes and pressed his face into his pillow again.

"Thanks, jerk," he said.

Dean mussed his hair fondly before heading out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Sam was too tired to care about anything else at the moment and just slept.

* * *

 _Later, he woke to voices talking_ somewhere in the bunker and he cracked his eyes open, hearing footsteps coming down the hall toward his room. Dean smiled as he saw him awake.

"Hey bro, Cas is back. I was wondering if you'd like to join us with a Mother's Day pancake bar."

Sam smiled and started to force himself upright, feeling not quite so weak this time, thankfully. "Of course."

Dean helped him out of the room toward the kitchen where Mom and Cas were standing around the table. Mom was arraigning a bouquet of colorful flowers in a vase and she smiled up at Sam as Dean brought him in and settled him carefully at the kitchen table.

"You boys didn't have to do all this," she protested, but she was smiling and looked happier than Sam had seen her since she had been back.

Dean pulled her into a hug with a grin. "Aw, come on, we haven't gotten to do this in years. Let us celebrate while we have the chance."

"Thank you," Mom said and kissed his cheek.

"Now sit down, and I will whip up some pancakes. Cas, can you help cut up the fruit for toppings? And get that bacon in a pan."

Sam watched the bustle, too shaky to participate, but Mom sat down next to him and settled a hand on his back. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said truthfully. He watched his brother direct Cas on where he wanted what for a few seconds before he said, "Thanks for being there for me, Mom. For taking care of me."

Her expression saddened slightly. "I just wish I could have been there for all of it, Sam. Watching you and Dean grow up, grow into the men you are…" She shook her head and looked down at the table. Sam reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing.

"Hey, it's not your fault. And you're here now. That counts for something."

Mom smiled and squeezed his hand back. "I suppose it does." She turned to Dean who had stacked some pancakes onto a plate and presented them to her as Cas brought over a tray of toppings.

"Okay, here you go, Mom, go wild!"

Mary laughed and started piling toppings on as Dean handed out pancakes to everyone else and they all sat around the table, laughing.

Sam watched his family and felt a deep, happy contentment in his heart. Even though he knew this couldn't possibly last forever—it never did—he was thankful to have it while he could.

And besides, now they only had this Mother's Day to live up to in the future, and he supposed that, over all, it really wasn't all that terrible.

The End

* * *

 **I've got another one-shot coming next week, with Cas and Gabriel brotherly feels, and h/c. After that, I really hope to have enough of my next multi-chap story written to start posting that! (A S7-8 AU) If not, expect at least one one-shot a week until I do!**


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